


Drowse

by eleuther



Series: Healing [4]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, No happy endings, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Sad Roger Taylor (Queen), Whump, homeboy needs help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 07:11:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20701994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleuther/pseuds/eleuther
Summary: Roger comes home drunk after a weekend at his parents'.Or, that time mentioned in Starving.





	Drowse

**Author's Note:**

> howdy ho I'm back with some angst. It's been a minute since I've written anything but that's okay cuz I'm here now. This is some sad shit, once again. I left the ending kind of ambiguous? I mentioned in Starving that they never talked about it, but if you wanna go off cannon and picture a conversation to make yourself feel better, feel free. Please enjoy and read the tags!! Nothing is mentioned too much but the abuse is heavily implied. Maybe I should, like, go to therapy instead of projecting onto characters.

**London 1970**

Freddie was getting tired of waiting up for Roger. He was always hours later than he said he would be, getting home drunk or high off an orgasm at ridiculous hours when they both had classes early the next morning. Freddie didn’t necessarily care about that part, but he did care about the blonde and his continuous late night partying was getting out of hand even for the singers standards. 

This time was a bit different, because he wasn’t waiting for him to come home from some birds house; rather, Roger had been visiting his parents for the weekend. He didn’t often do so, finding he’d rather stay home with Freddie writing music or partying. Occasionally, he’d actually be drowning in school work and would try to make a dent in the growing pile. 

But because he was visiting his parents, he should have actually been home when he said he would be, or at least around the time. Now nearing ten at night, Freddie was both concerned and sick of the blonde’s behavior. It would have been courteous to at least ring him if he decided to stay an extra night. 

Just as Freddie was about to give in and call his parents home the door to their flat burst open, and in came an absolutely trashed drummer. 

“Where on earth have you been? I’ve been waiting up for hours and you have the audacity to go drinking when you get back from your parents, not even stopping home to tell me or invite me -” Freddie paused in his rant when he saw the true state of the drummer. 

“Roger, darling, what on earth happened?” 

Roger giggled, eyes red rimmed and legs wobbling as he moved to the couch. The smell of alcohol came off him in waves. His smile was crooked, like he was just barely holding on, only painting it on his face to keep up appearances. His hair was a mess, really he looked like he hadn’t showered since he left two days prior. He’d obviously been crying, and - was that a bruise under his eye? Freddie’s heart sank as he thought about the fight he’d likely got into. 

“Rog, darling?”

The blonde giggled again, hiccupping afterwards. 

“My dad is a terrible man” was all Roger had to say. Freddie was tempted to push but the admission seemed to make tears appear in his eyes again and the last thing he wanted was a crying drummer on his hands. He’d never seen Roger cry and he didn’t want to start now; he wasn’t sure his heart could take it. 

“My dad, he was always so awful. Yelling at us and mum. I don’t think he ever told me he loved me.” A sob ripped itself from his throat, but he quickly reigned it back in. 

“I wasn’t expecting anything less this weekend,” Roger said. “But God, I thought he’d changed at least a bit since I’d left. I’d always been the problem.”

He started laughing again, real laughs this time, though they were anything but humorous. Tears began rolling down his face as the laughs quickly became sobs. Freddie watched on, horror crawling through his gut as he began to put the pieces together. 

“And Clare! She’s been getting the brunt of it, and I didn’t even know! I am an awful brother, an awful human. I never should have left her there,” Roger blubbered.

“No, love, you are not -” Freddie tried.

“But I am! Don’t you see? I am going to ruin you, I’m going to ruin Queen, just like I did Clare and my dad. It’s all my fault and I can’t let that happen to you all. God, I am never going back there.” 

“Roger, darling, listen to me,” Freddie began, wrapping his arms tightly around the drummer. “There is nothing wrong with you, there has never been anything wrong with you. You won’t ruin anything. Not me, and especially not Queen.”

Roger only nodded. His eyes glazed over, and he let himself be grounded by Freddie’s presence. 

Moments later the blonde lurched forward before standing up, barely making it to the sink to vomit the contents of his stomach. Freddie stood behind him, rubbing his back and pulling his hair into a makeshift ponytail. 

“That’s it, let it out love.” 

A pit of guilt was growing in Freddies stomach as he thought about what the drummer had said. Admittedly, none of them knew much about Roger’s childhood, just that he and his father had never gotten along. No one had ever pried; Roger would get that same glazed look whenever parents or siblings were brought up, and they assumed it was a sore spot. 

They never thought it was anything like this. 

Roger eventually stopped puking. His body seemed unwilling to move, as he stayed hunched over the sink for several more minutes. It wasn’t until Freddie nudged him that the blonde was brought back to reality. 

“I’m sorry, Fred.” His voice was hoarse, a sign of the exhaustion taking over his body. 

“Nothing to be sorry for, love. Let's get you to bed.” 

Freddie managed to get him cleaned up and into a new shirt without too much fuss. He maneuvered the drummer into bed, placing an empty bucket next to it. The moment he tried to move, Roger began to whimper, mumbling apologies and begging him to stay. Freddie didn’t have the heart to say no.

The pit in his stomach had settled into something hard, something permanent, as he settled into bed with Roger. He had a bad feeling about this; what this meant, about what had happened this weekend. 

He’d ask him in the morning. 

* 

The next morning Freddie awoke alone, with a note left in the spot Roger had fallen asleep in. 

_Fred - _

_Thanks for helping me last night. Sorry for the mess. I’ll get some candles to get rid of the stench. I’ll be home tonight. _

_Rog :)_

_P.S. - don’t worry about what I said. Just some drunken ramblings._

**Author's Note:**

> please leave comments and kudos I need validation !!!


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